does it even mean anything?
#cheflife #cooklife hashtag this hashtag that, bunch of bullshit. This is my life, my dream, my future. I can't even pretend I'm no one now, even though I am not someone yet, the ones that are some bodies know me, and if I fuck up now I will never succeed in the future. That pressure pushes me to be better than I was yesterday, every single day. The severe pressure of knowing and working with the top chefs in the city get to me, every single day. I have a wonderful love who after years finally came to love me the way I used to love him, but after being pushed away for such a long time I can't make myself be the same person. I hate this. Everything has turned around. Why can't feelings just line up? I have it so good, I finally have what I wanted for so long. And what am I doing? I am staying up late pursuing adventures with a dishwasher. I am looking for a life of the unexpected. I am looking for a life filled with the fear of rejection and failure. What am I doing? Why do I want someone who lives in a van? Because, duh, why wouldn't I want someone who lives in a van? Why wouldn't I want a life of freedom and adventure? Why wouldn't I want to fast forward to a time when I'm not in school, when I don't work three jobs and when I'm not on probation? I want to be free. I want to be in my late twenties and travel and be free. Freedom. That's the only dream I have. My profession will always provide opportunities for me. But the people in it now won't be around forever...
Where are you....
Where are you....